Behind Red Lips

By M.R. Smith

Charlotte is afraid of love and of life.

Her confidantes are a rubber duck and a diary she calls Rajah. She tiptoes on the edge of the love cliff, but to her an imaginary love life is safer than taking the plunge with a real one. She dreams about men who remind her of her long lost love, Mason, yet when she bumps into him she panics and runs away.

Her heart crushed by a long-ago betrayal, Charlotte cannot find happiness unless she confronts the ghosts of her past and deals with the realities of the present.

This touching love story wends its way through the ups and downs of Charlotte's life as she tries to deal with her emotional problems and find a way to heal her broken heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Apr 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781456624880

Book preview

cover-image, Behind Red Lips

Behind Red Lips

By

M.R Smith

A perfect, must-read, love story

- First Editing

Copyright © M.R. Smith 2018–2021

1st Edition

Published by eBookIt.com

ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-2488-0

The authors assert the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the authors of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the authors, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Acknowledgments

Sincere thanks to all who assisted me with the development of ‘Behind Red Lips’ which is purely fictional and which has no reference to anybody living or dead.

Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who encouraged me to write this story, including my editors and proofreaders. Special thanks to my daughter Liezil, for her role as co-writer.

We would like to thank Godfrey, a loving husband and father, for his patience, love and support throughout our adventure and being there when we needed him most, especially during the stressful moments.

Last but not least; thanks to the universe and the Creator for giving us the ability to live and strive through adversity.

Table of Contents



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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 1



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The young professional walking down Rokeby Road, Subiaco, well knew the impact of her crimson red lipstick and black sunglasses. Her olive skin glowed with a breathtaking radiance, and her long, dark brown curls were pulled back. She seemed like a starlet of yesteryear, and she moved with a confidence that commanded respect.

This was how the young woman appeared to the world, while another lurked behind the sunglasses and red lipstick.

The road was the usual hustle and bustle, filled with lunchtime diners going about in groups, so she was not at all surprised to see that Café Luigi’s was busy when she entered.

Hi, Charlotte! the excited waitress carrying a lasagna out to the café courtyard called out to her. The waiters and waitresses, in their khaki cords, crisp white shirts, and black aprons, moved about the café with an energy that Charlotte had never seen duplicated anywhere else.

She smiled back at the waitress, Lucy. Charlotte loved Luigi’s, and it wasn’t only because the meals were tasty and affordable; it was for the music and the people who frequented the place. Most days the café played classical Mediterranean tunes; today it was contemporary jazz, featuring sultry female singers. She found herself lost in the world of Marilyn Monroe’s ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend.’ Yes, it was definitely her favorite lunchtime haunt in the area.

After waiting a couple of minutes at the counter, Charlotte placed her order and was handed her table number. She laughed when she saw it and thought of how most people, even those who weren’t superstitious, believed the number 13 to be unlucky. In fact, she’d had a lot of positive experiences with it, like the day she experienced her first kiss and the day she landed her first job. She surveyed the area for a vacant table. Less confident than she appeared, she quickly moved to a corner table close to the window where she could see the comings and goings, yet still be slightly hidden.

She carefully removed her suit jacket and placed it on the back of the chair. She left her sunglasses on for two reasons; to keep the glare out of her eyes, and to eyeball the unsuspecting.

Reaching into her purse, she grabbed her red lipstick and carefully applied it. She was never satisfied with the way she looked. Besides, reapplying her lipstick was a ritual she needed to do; it relaxed her. She felt incomplete without it, even when she was just about to tuck into a meal.

Turning her head slightly, Charlotte noticed two young men in their late twenties to mid-thirties, sitting together at a smaller table close to the exit. One was facing her, and the other had his back to her. They were both wearing business suits and she wondered whether they worked in one of the larger office blocks or companies close to where she was employed. Charlotte caught the eye of the guy facing her, who quickly looked away. Shite, was that Mason? She couldn’t believe her eyes. She snuck another quick peek, forgetting that, thanks to her sunglasses, she could probably have taken a longer look. He looked just like Mason, but it couldn’t be him, could it?

Here you go, the waiter said, startling Charlotte as he put her lunch on the table. Charlotte turned to thank him.

When she looked over at the table again, she caught the young man glancing back in her direction. He smiled slightly and she caught herself returning the smile. He would look at her, she would look at him, and they would exchange shy smiles and the stare dance would begin again. The shy smiles were a nice way to make her lunch more exciting, but when she looked at her watch, she realized she needed to hurry up if she still wanted to check out the new season’s arrivals at the shoe boutique across the road.

She began to eat her salad more carefully, aware that someone was watching her. She took small bites and chewed slowly, dabbing her mouth between bites to ensure her lipstick stayed in place as much as possible.

Lifting her head up again, Charlotte caught the young man in the suit looking her way once more. She was curious to know who he was and why he kept staring at her. Perhaps they had met somewhere before? He didn’t look like any pervert. Charlotte knew the difference between the Casanovas and the Genuine; women usually did.

She had to find out who he was, but how? Thoughts twirled around her head: a man—a good-looking man; a strong man. I think I like this man.

Maybe he’d seen her before, or had even come into PAS206, the art gallery where she worked. Many people who worked in the area and knew of the gallery often ventured in, especially if they got word that a famous artist was exhibiting.

She cringed as the tightness built up in her chest, making her hands sweaty. Taking a few short, slow breaths, she wiped her hands with a tissue and repeated to herself, I am calm, I am calm, I am calm.

She patted her mouth and applied some more red lipstick, and then stood up to remove her jacket from the chair and put it on. Fiddling in her handbag for a few seconds she found her flowered scarf and flung it around her neck. Certain that he was watching her and flustered at the thought, she removed her sunglasses to clean her lenses and placed them back on her head rather than her face before making a rush to the door.

Hello? Miss? You dropped your scarf.

Not realizing that the voice was talking to her, Charlotte didn’t turn around at first, but a moment later she became conscious that her scarf was gone.

She turned and saw an arm holding out the scarf. Oh, thanks, she said and then looked up. It was the man from the other table, the one who had been doing the stare dance with her.

For a moment, Charlotte felt stunned. He had an athletic physique and wasn’t too tall or too short. His dark hair framed his face, which was all lit up and which in turn brought out the sparkle in his eyes. There was gentleness in his voice, too; yes, he did remind her of Mason. It was as if she was stepping into her past. His brown eyes looked deeply into hers, and although she wanted to say something, she couldn’t seem to think of anything coherent.

Not since her silent departure from Mason had she felt quite like this. Nothing had stirred her up this much…and she didn’t like the feeling at all.

Blushing, she thanked him again, with a calmness that surprised even her. She placed her glasses back onto her face and hurried out of the café, so bedazzled that she nearly tripped on the sidewalk as she made her way to the shoe store across the street. She glanced back briefly with the pretense that she thought she had dropped something. It was, instead, to see if the mysterious guy was following her. She hoped he was.

I have to meet that guy, she thought. There’s just something about him. She shook her head and carried on walking across the road. At least her work day would be more exciting now, her head filled with the image of the handsome and courteous man.

****

The young man continued to watch her as she left. He couldn’t believe how attracted he was to this woman. Her slim figure was highlighted in the smart charcoal pinstripe suit.

Who was that? he asked his friend, still feeling the silk scarf between his fingertips, even though it was now securely tucked around Charlotte’s neck. Never seen her around this area before. I need to meet her.

Oh, I’ve seen her around, the other man said. I think she works at PAS206.

With a twinkle in his eye, the handsome young man smiled. Really? He took out a notepad and wrote down the name of the company where the mysterious woman with the flowered scarf and red lipstick worked.

Chapter 2



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Sighing, and snapping out of her fantasy and back into reality, Charlotte walked down the road to find her own workplace at PAS206.

How was lunch? Mandy asked without looking up.

What? Charlotte was still in the midst of her daydream. She was just wondering whether he would get her flowers…

Charlotte, are you okay? Mandy stopped typing, got up, and started to collect her things. You seem a little out of it.

Oh, yes, I just… well, it was an interesting lunch. Charlotte put her things on the desk, hung up her suit jacket and placed her handbag in the reception area. She was trying to focus on what she was doing, but her thoughts were filled with him—the guy she had seen earlier.

Oh, yes, Charlotte looked at the clock and realized how late she was, thanks for waiting. I think I’m… well, I think I’m in love.

What? I need to go to lunch with you some time. Mandy laughed.

What do you mean? Charlotte said, starting to come down from her fantasy.

You’re always falling in love at lunchtime. I need to follow you around some day and find out your secret, and maybe with some luck, it will happen to me too.

I’m not always falling in love, Charlotte huffed as she adjusted the chair and sat down.

Mandy smiled fondly at Charlotte and paused to look at her as she pinned her long blonde locks to the back of her head. Just the other week you fell in love with a chap you met at the florist, remember, or have you forgotten about him already?

Ah, him. Well, that was just silly and immature of me. I mean, he was lovely… She let off a bit of a giggle and drifted off, trying to remember the man’s hazel eyes and blue shirt.

I thought you liked… Sean, Mandy continued, or someone like that, what happened to him?

Charlotte didn’t answer until she closed her eyes and remembered the way the café guy looked at her. I think he’s the man of my dreams.

In shock, Mandy shot her a curious look. Why, what makes you think so?

I just knew it the minute I laid eyes on him.

Okay, I’m sure you think that, but are you certain? She shrugged on a long coat that covered the short tight skirt that Charlotte always thought looked ridiculous on her, glanced at her watch, and screeched, Holy crap, is that the time? You need to tell me later. Right now, I’ve got to get a move on—my man’s waiting for me. Oh, and by the way, your new name plaque came today. I put it on your desk.

Oh, thanks, Mandy. Enjoy your lunch. Charlotte settled into the reception desk; it was part of her day at PAS206, relieving Mandy while she was at lunch.

See you later, Mandy called out in a bit of a fluster, before rushing out of the building.

The phone was quiet when Harry, her boss, came in from lunch and walked straight over to reception. Charlotte, he said, sorry to interrupt, could you keep all calls at bay for me until after three?

Charlotte eyed her boss, handsome and well groomed as ever with his clean-shaven face and immaculate trademark double breasted pinstripe suit. He always reminded her of a Don Juan who had just stepped off a film set.

Yes, sure, she replied. No problem.

Thanks, Charlotte, he said, slapping the desk then waving at her as he walked toward his office.

Charlotte liked her boss and felt comfortable with him. He was so easy going and understanding. He had worked in events hospitality ever since he was seventeen, the same age he left home to fend for himself. At the time, he had no other choice but to start out as a laborer for an event hiring company. This soon catapulted him into events catering and then management, working for both public and private sectors, including hospitals, banks, celebrities, and well-known business people. By the time he’d turned forty, he’d organized events in everything from sports stadiums to the flashiest hotels. He seemed to know the industry inside out and treasured the public art space on 206 Rokeby Road, the company he’d started five years ago when he saw the need for such an establishment, thanks to his wife, who was also a keen artist. It was his passion, and this was what Charlotte admired him the most for.

Charlotte smiled after him as he left, placed the headset for the phones on her head, and began to answer calls.

The phone began its familiar ringing, with people calling with questions, to make appointments, and with the wrong numbers. Charlotte wasn’t the biggest fan of answering the telephone, but it was all part and parcel of the job; besides, why should she complain when it was only for an hour every day and it was a nice change, especially after her own lunch break. It gave her a chance to dwell on whatever had occurred in her brief time off, and there was plenty of that. Maybe Mandy was right—oh, who cared? A bit of imagination of love in her life from time to time couldn’t hurt. She smiled to herself.

Charlotte continued to answer the phone. Thanks for your call. Have a nice day. Again, and again, she repeated those words. She repeated them so often; she’d used them on her home phone too.

Hi, Charlotte, Mario the courier said as he walked up in his brightly colored messenger outfit. He was the courier for the area from the city to Subiaco, and always dressed in the brightest colors because, he said, he needed to stand out when he was biking around town.

Charlotte thought it was probably only because he liked the bright outfits.

Waiting until she was done with a call, Mario handed over a small parcel, as well as some envelopes. Charlotte started to sign for them.

How’s your day going?

Charlotte nodded, finishing another call. She pushed a button on the keyboard and looked up at Mario. Not bad. You?

I could complain, but what’s the use? He smiled, looked at the outgoing mail, and slid a large envelope back across the desk toward her. This one needs a business stamp and signature.

Sorry, said Charlotte, surprised. I didn’t realize. She shook her head in confusion. My mind is elsewhere today.

Fallen in love again?

Charlotte tried to smile. Was it really that obvious?

She pulled Mario’s work sheet across the desk toward her then signed and rubber-stamped it. She glanced at him, pleased that it was all over and done with.

She usually enjoyed Mario’s visits but she had too many things going on in her head this day and, as though he could sense her impatience, he said politely, Okay, I think I’ll get out of your hair today.

He collected his items. Hey, Charlotte, don’t forget to smile for me. You know that I’ll carry that beautiful smile with me for the rest of the day.

Charlotte couldn’t help but look up and genially smile back at Mario. He was looking at her when she smiled broadly and he pretended to catch the smile and put it in his pocket. While she had once considered Mario as a possible love, she’d dismissed it quickly. He was nice, but he definitely wasn’t THE one.

Mario winked at her and then walked out the door as Charlotte reminded him to be safe. Then, as if it had waited for her to be done with Mario first, the phone lit up again.

Good afternoon, PAS206, Charlotte speaking, how can I help you? Okay, may I ask whose calling? Oh, Andrew, you’ve just taken over D’Lish?

Yes, I saw you when I was training, but you were busy with someone else.

Oh, that’s right. Charlotte nodded, acknowledging what he had just said as if he was standing right in front of her.

Harry mentioned that I’ll be dealing with you on quite a large scale, so I guess we’ll meet again soon. Now, having said that, Charlotte, said Andrew politely, could you put me through to Harry’s office, please?

Harry will only be available after three, but I can pass on the message and ask him to return your call.

That would be great. Thanks, Charlotte.

You’re welcome.

Charlotte pushed another key but the caller had gone. She looked at the switchboard and saw that the lights were beginning to slow down. For a moment, she took a breath and smiled.

Looking at her monitor once more, she was shaken from her daydream by a new call.

Good afternoon, PAS206. Charlotte Clarkson speaking, how can I help you?

Chapter 3



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As unusual as it may seem for an events company, some days seemed like they could go on forever, especially when not many people were around the office. On such days, Charlotte would throw herself into filing duties and spend time in the compactus room, where all the hard copy documents lived. It was a place of solace for Charlotte, and what she liked most about it was the fact that not many employees had access.

Within the filing room was a huge compactus unit, complete with sliding doors. The room had a keycard entry, white concrete floors and a touch screen with a barcode scanner and label printer. Every single document or communication that was generated at PAS206 was kept well-guarded within its walls. Charlotte knew the compactus inside out. She called the actual unit the Paper Wardrobe and the rows Alphabet Street. The room also had a small reading area with two fabric armchairs, a table, and a scanning device.

The